


Hello

by LuxAve



Category: Big Hero 6 (2014)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-27
Updated: 2015-10-27
Packaged: 2018-04-28 11:50:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5089667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuxAve/pseuds/LuxAve
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hello, can you hear me? I’m in California, dreaming about who we used to be; when we were younger and free. I’ve forgotten how it felt before the world fell at our feet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hello

**Author's Note:**

> I’d like to thank the ever-lovely Adele for penning her newest song, for while I was listening to it (on repeatrepeatrepeat) a tiny little idea cloud popped into my mind.   
> I know this idea may have been done to death, but oh well; I’ve never contributed to it. So here’s mine.

**_Hello_ **

 

They kept his phone online. They repeatedly paid the phone bill for a phone whose owner no longer needed it. They kept it plugged in to the charger, only moving the phone a little to plug it into it’s registered computer – the computer that had access to it, and load all the unopened, unread texts, uploading all the not-listened to voicemail. Then it went right back into it’s original place on the nightstand, the outline of the cleared spot in a mess of a thick layer of dust that had collected over the years.

 

_They say time’s supposed to heal ya, but I ain’t done much healing._

Hiro Hamada stood in front of the Lucky Cat, his late aunt’s business. It’d been years since he last stood across the street looking at it. And he felt sort of guilty about that little fact, he regretted it. Sort of. He’d seen his aunt, yes. But for the past year, she’d in and out of the hospital that started with a random out of the blue stroke she had and spiraled down from there. He’d flown back and forth between San Fransokyo and New York, where he lived and worked.

 

He was only in San Fransokyo for a week. He had a million and seven things to do – he had to make sure the Lucky Cat was still in the pristine condition his aunt had left it, that all the employees were happy there and nobody needed to quit; he also had to clear out the living space above the café. He didn’t need it, and since his job was just a contract job, turning it into a rental space would promise a little cash flow in the event he ever needed it.

 

But this was the part he was regretting.

 

He didn’t want to touch anything in the house. He wanted everything to stay _exactly_ where everyone left it.

 

But he didn’t _need_ it.

 

And it _needed_ to be done.

 

He took a shaky breath and stepped towards the back door, where they’d always enter so they didn’t disturb the café’s customers. The doorknob still jiggled a bit, a little more so now since it’s been that way for years and years – almost to the point where he thought it was going to fall off in his hand.

 

Gonna have to fix that.

 

He closed the green door behind him, flipping the stairs light on and was immediately bathed in a warm light.

 

He took his time climbing the flight and looked at the pictures covering the wall all the way up.

 

_I’m in California, dreaming about who we used to be._

 

He passed by one of his favorite pictures of him and his brother when they were little. Tadashi was showing him a model robot, he couldn't’ have been older than ten or eleven and Hiro was three or four. They were on the floor of their old shared room with ‘extra’ parts littering the floor in a deformed circle around them.

 

His fingers brushed the frame as he gave a sad smile to the documented memory. He doesn’t quite remember that day, but he knew it was shortly after the brothers moved in with Cass; he barely recalls it being a tough time for Tadashi, but he always tried to brighten Hiro’s day as much as he possibly could.

 

After a few more seconds of wishing for a moment to go back in time and really appreciate that memory as it happened, he continued on. He only had so much time to be in town and then he had to leave.

 

The house didn’t seem as warm and inviting as it had been when the three of them had been living there; it lost a little of it’s warmth when the fire happened, and he lost his brother. And Hiro remembers when he first visited right after he left for New York, it had lost a little more, but Cass still made it bright and cheerful.

 

Now it was cold. And dark – no matter how many curtains he opened, how many lamps he turned on.

 

He walked throughout the first floor of their former living space and decided what would be donated, what would be stored and what he’d take with him. He was glad he chose to do this part by himself, he wasn’t _that_ emotional of a person, but he shed more tears just walking through than he had in a long time.

 

He really _dreaded_ going up to his and Tadashi’s old room.

 

He really dreaded having to move things from his brother’s side, _especially_. Over the years, when he still lived there, he tried his damnedest to move as little as possible on Tadashi’s side, trying to preserve as much of his brother’s last essence in the room as he could.

 

Especially Tadashi’s phone.

 

_Hello from the other side._

He had forgotten to take it the night of the fire, it had died that day and he plugged it in to charge but ultimately left leaving it behind. A blessing in disguise. It was one of the only things that still had his voice on it; that anybody could hear whenever.

 

Right after the fire, Hiro would call Tadashi’s phone multiple times a day. And sometimes he’d leave messages, both voice and text, and a childish part of him hoped Tadashi would answer, call back, text him back. But over the years, Hiro moved on and called Tadashi’s phone less and less; to the point where he’d only call on holidays and birthdays, or the odd moment when he’d get the overwhelming grieving feeling and _have_ to hear his brother’s voice.

 

_I must have called a thousand times._

He took his time going up the second flight of stairs; he had more pictures to look at. He couldn’t help but chuckle at Mochi’s picture in a Stitch costume, and he actually laughed when he remembered hos much Tadashi and their aunt had gotten scratched up getting that darn cat in the outfit then out of it.

 

He reached the top quicker than he wanted; the sunlight being filtered through closed blinds gave the room a light bluish glow. He flipped the switch and stood in the doorway fro a long moment.

 

_To tell you I’m sorry for everything that I’ve done._

Hiro hadn’t realized he had been holding his breath until he needed to breathe. He looked around and took everything in as he stepped further into the room, just stopping past the corner of the wall where the bathroom was. From there, he could see all of their old room.

 

He could recall some of the conversations the two brothers had in specific spots of the room. He remember one of their first real discussions about robots was when they were sitting at Hiro’s desk, watching a pirated episode of _The Transformers_ from the 80’s. Where Hiro was standing then, by the corner of the bathroom, was where Tadashi explained why the elder had to shave his face, and the two sat on the foot of Hiro’s bed about a year later and Tadashi gave Hiro _the talk_ – prompting the younger to blush a deep red and tell Tadashi _“seriously, ‘Dashi, they tell us this at school every year!”_ That didn’t stop Tadashi, especially when he told his little brother that the school gives them _“scientific facts and not why people actually do those kinds of things.”_

 

He also remembered standing in front of their huge robot clock when Tadashi gave his first lecture to Hiro about botfighting, and gave his last lecture beside Hiro’s desk.

 

Hiro can’t begin to think how many mini-heart attacks he must have given to Tadashi over the few years he had gotten into the illegal activity. While he had always understood Tadashi’s reasoning to freak out about it, Hiro couldn’t get him to see the fun side of it. Hiro regretted botfighting now; a slight seed of guilt connected the chain of events to the night the fire happened. But regret doesn't change the past, only shapes your future and how you live it in spite.

 

_But when I call you never seem to be home._

He decided before he even got to the Lucky Cat that he would _not_ be giving away, donating or throwing away any of Tadashi’s things. Some he would take with him, and everything else would be neatly placed into storage. He couldn’t even bare the thought of someone using his brother’s things; he wasn’t entirely sure why he felt that way about it.

 

(---)

 

It took him three days, with the help of the storage and movers’ workers, to clear out what needed to be stored and moved to New York – where he had the storage unit.

 

The next day and a half was dedicated to helping the different movers from the thrift stores pack up and load everything else, with the other half of the day at the realtor’s office discussing letting someone rent the upstairs.

 

Then he was headed back home.

 

_Hello from the outside._

 

His assistant was nice enough to let the movers in and place his stuff in his living room for him to arrange when he got back. A majority of the stuff he had taken from Tadashi’s side of the old room was split between Hiro’s room – like the large robot clock he hung across from his window, and his home office – all of Tadashi’s books and notebooks, including the bookshelf, were placed in their new little home.

 

He had taken all the family photos and hung them all up around his living room and foyer, and the few pictures he had of him and Tadashi trying to cook were affectionately placed in the kitchen.

 

He finally got everything in its place, he sat on his couch and for a moment, his mind was blank. Then he sat back and cried.

 

_At least I can say that I tried._

He was the only one left of his teeny tiny family. Who was he to go to now when he needed someone to talk to? When he needed to reminisce his childhood, all the goofy times him and his brother had? Correct him when his memory on a certain event from then lapsed a bit and mixed up things? Who was he to call when he needed a familiar, warm voice, a voice that wouldn’t judge when he messed up?

 

He was the only Hamada left of their little clan. Alone. The last one.

 

_To tell you I’m sorry… But it don’t matter._

He pulled out his phone from his pocket and dialed a familiar, unchanging number. He listened to the dial as he heard the phone he was calling ring from his office.

 

“Hello, you’ve reached Tadashi Hamada’s phone. I’m sorry I can’t answer at the moment, but if you leave your name and number and message, I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”

 

_Hello, it’s me._


End file.
